Each scene in this story takes place at a different time in Em's transition. The first scene is pre-testosterone, the second is around 3 1/2 months on T, and the third is 7 months on T, which means that the first two scenes take place between Conversations With My Reflection and The Skin I'm In, and the last scene is about two months after The Skin I'm In.
A knock on his office door caught Hotch's attention, and he glanced up, calling, "Come in."
Prentiss peeked her head in, chewing on her lower lip before asking, "Hey, do you have a minute?"
Hotch looked at the paperwork strewn across his desk, then back up at his agent, noticing her wide eyes and shallow breathing. "Sure," he nodded. Reaching for his phone, he said a quick, "I'll call you back, Dave," into the speaker, then lifted the receiver and dropped it back into place to end the call. "What can I do for you?"
Stepping into the office, Prentiss closed the door before walking over to Hotch's desk, taking a seat in one of the visitor's chairs. "Um..." Hesitating, she stared at the surface of the desk, fingers automatically moving to pick at her nails.
Frowning at her obvious nervousness, Hotch softened his voice, gently prompting, "Emily..." He was surprised when the brunette flinched noticeably. "What's wrong?"
Prentiss cleared her throat, practically squirming in the chair in discomfort. "Hotch, there's... I've... changed. I, uh, I realized some things when I was in Paris, things that are going to change some things about me."
Tilting his head at the vague rambling, Hotch waited for clarification.
Sneaking a quick glance up at him, Prentiss chewed on her lip more vigorously.
"You can tell me anything, Prentiss," Hotch encouraged, being sure to address her by her last name to avoid another wince.
"I... I-I-I I'm..." Taking a couple quick, fortifying breaths, Prentiss blurted out, "I'm transgender."
Hotch was quiet for a moment, taking the time to digest that, even though his agent looked like she (he?) was internally dying in front of him. Finally, he asked, "What would you like me to call you?"
Prentiss nearly collapsed in on himself, staring at Hotch in disbelief. "You're... okay with it?" he asked in a small voice.
"You're one of my best agents," Hotch replied matter-of-factly. "I just got you back on my team, I'm not doing anything to give you a reason to leave again." He gave a small smile, and added, "Besides that professional reason, I also see no personal reason to be opposed."
Letting out a laugh that was little more than a breath, Prentiss leaned back in the chair. "Well that was a lot of anxiety for nothing."
"Did you think I would object?" Hotch asked curiously.
Prentiss shook his head slowly. "No... Not object, per se. But I know that this is a... complicated workplace scenario."
"Yes," Hotch agreed. "But you have my support, and I'm sure the rest of the team's as well."
"Thank you."
A moment passed, silent, before Hotch asked, somewhat uncomfortably, "Do you have a... timeline?"
"Oh!" Prentiss chuckled a little. "Right. Um, I have a few hoops to jump through, but I'm hoping to start on hormones in the next month or two."
Hotch nodded. "Will you need any time off for that? I'm sorry," he apologized, "I really don't know much about this." But he would, he determined. There was going to be some intense googling in his near future.
"No, not for hormones. Um, when I have surgery, though, I'll have to be gone for at least a month, and riding a desk for a couple months after that," Prentiss sighed, not looking forward to the prospect, even though it wasn't even realistically on his radar yet.
"All right," Hotch acknowledged, glad that Prentiss wasn't going to have to take time off again so soon after getting back. It hadn't even been a week. When he noticed the brunette agent starting to stand, he asked, "Prentiss? You never answered my question. What would you like me to call you?"
Prentiss bit his lip around a tremulous smile. "I... Emile," he answered quietly. "That's what I've been calling myself. It, uh, might change in the future, but for now, Emile."
Standing as well, Hotch held out his hand, smiling when Prentiss shook it with a curious look. "Welcome to the team, Emile."
"Thanks," Prentiss whispered around the lump in his throat, and quickly fled back to the bullpen.
Hotch sat back down, thinking about what had just been revealed to him. He was jarred out of his thoughts by a sudden beeping, and looked over at his phone, noting that the receiver was askew in the cradle. "Dammit," he muttered, clicking it into place, then lifting it again and dialing Rossi.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," was how the older man answered the call, and Hotch rolled his eyes.
"Yes you did, or you would've ended the call," Hotch pointed out.
Rossi harrumphed, grumbling under his breath. "So... Prentiss, huh?"
"Are you surprised?" Hotch asked, looking through his window into the bullpen, watching the dark haired agent working.
"Yes, but it makes sense in hindsight," Rossi admitted. "The short hair."
"Loose shirts," Hotch added.
"And her breasts are half the size as when she left."
"Dave!"
Hotch took the back stairs out of the conference room, reading over a file as he made his way over to the break area. His attention was caught as he heard someone mention Prentiss's name, and he paused, still looking down at his file, but listening curiously. Although the team was completely supportive of Prentiss's transition, other agents gave him a bit of a wide berth, paired with curious stares. So, Hotch justified to himself, it was practically his duty to see what the other agents were saying.
"So, Prentiss, huh?" one agent said, Hotch recognizing the voice, but not quite able to place it.
"Right?" the other agent snorted derisively, a voice Hotch recognized as Laura Watson, the media liaison for B team. "I certainly wouldn't ruin my looks just to pretend I had a dick."
The first agent chuckled, and Hotch realized it was most likely Eric Hayes, one of his own researchers, who was dating Watson. "I would definitely dump you if you did," he said, confirming his identity to Hotch. "Hey, did you hear her voice cracking the other day? She sounded like a fourteen-year-old boy."
"I think that's the point," Watson replied dryly. "She's trying to be a guy, remember?" She made a disgusted sound. "Ugh, she'd better not hit on me now that she thinks she's a man."
Hotch nearly snorted. As if Prentiss would have such horrifically bad taste. Then he paused, remembering his (her, at the time) statement about having dated men worse than that Viper clown.
"Does she even like women now?" Hayes wondered. "I mean, she dated guys before."
"Who cares, as long as she stays away from me."
Hayes hummed thoughtfully, and Hotch considered breaking up the conversation, before changing his mind. He couldn't peg them with anything on their record with what they'd said so far, so he decided to wait it out, hoping that they'd either shut up and go away on their own, or say something he could reprimand them for. "I dunno, I'm pretty sure I heard her talking with Jareau about going on a date with some guy."
"Great, so she's not just a freak, but a gay freak, too. She'd better leave you alone," Watson grumbled.
"Is it really gay, though?" Hayes asked. "I mean, it's not like she has a dick. That's kinda the thing gay guys go for."
"Why are you so interested in what's in her pants?" Watson asked testily.
Protesting, Hayes said, "Babe, it's not like that. Gross. I'm just wondering if it makes her a straight chick who wants to be a dude, or an actual fag. I mean, she's still female. So she can't really be a gay guy. She's like... a lady fag."
Watson snorted with laughter at the same time Hotch lost his temper, flipping his folder closed and looking up. He stopped short at the sight of Prentiss standing awkwardly near the break area, looking pained. He'd clearly heard the words uttered, and Hotch watched as he turned on his heel, fleeing back to his desk.
"Would you care to repeat that, agents?" Hotch asked, rounding the corner and coldly eyeing the two agents, their backs to the room. They quickly whirled in place, both turning pale.
After quietly reaming them out with a cold fury and sending them scurrying away, Hotch poured the cup of coffee he'd originally been going for, and then a second. His folder tucked under one arm, he carried both cups through the bullpen, setting one on Prentiss's desk as he passed, heading up to his office.
"Soooo?" Prentiss heard the coy question, and looked around the bullpen. It was early, and he'd thought he was the only person there, but evidently not. He shook his head slightly, turning back to his work.
"Can we not talk about this?" a second person hissed, and Prentiss recognized the voice as Anderson. He wondered if the younger agent ever actually slept - it seemed he was always around, working away in the background.
"Oh my god," the first person laughed teasingly. "You totally have a crush on him."
The comment made Prentiss remember that Anderson was gay, and he made a mental note to ask how he dealt with the subtle homophobia that seemed to swirl around a lot of the agents.
Anderson didn't answer, and the other agent added, "Are you going to ask him out?"
"Gina," Anderson groaned, and Prentiss realized it was Gina Sharp, one of the CSU techs, and apparently a good friend of Anderson's if she was hanging around the office early in the morning, trying to convince him to ask someone out on a date.
"Don't 'Gina' me," Sharp protested. "He's hot. I'd ask him out myself if I thought I had a chance, but I'm pretty sure he still likes guys."
Still likes guys? Prentiss froze. Oh god, please don't let them be talking about me.
"He does," Anderson muttered. Then a moment later, "Don't give me that look. I didn't ask, Garcia told me."
Goddammit. They were talking about him.
"So ask him out!" Sharp laughed.
"I don't date at work," Anderson replied.
"Mm." Sharp sighed. "Can't argue with that. So you're just going to drool over him from afar?" Anderson must have given her a look, because a second later, she was laughing.
Then Anderson wryly said, "Thanks for making me sound like a teenage boy."
The door to the bullpen opened, and the two agents quieted down. Then JJ's voice, "Hey, Em, you're here already?"
Prentiss thought fast and forced himself to jump, as though startled. "Huh? Oh, yeah, just getting some extra paperwork done." He swiveled his chair to face his friend, then pretended to notice the two standing by the wall, going through boxes of files and staring back at him with deer-in-the-headlights expressions. "Geez, Anderson, you're here early, too? Sorry, I didn't even notice you guys there." He watched the younger agents cautiously relax, and looked up at JJ, staring at him oddly. 'Later,' he mouthed.
Throughout the day, he kept thinking back to the conversation he'd overheard. Even though he wasn't interested in Anderson, he was still immensely flattered that the man found him attractive, both as a general ego boost, and as confirmation that yes, he was rocking this being a man thing, and no, he wasn't going to be alone forever because there were men out there who didn't care that he'd been born female.
It put a little extra swagger in his step for the rest of the day.